


The Friend I Had, The Friend I Have

by ettical



Category: The Lorax (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Decisions, Cus The Once-ler Does That Too, Gen, Guitars, Not In This Fic But He Made Some Hella Shitty Ones Before It, Old Age, Old Once-ler, Post-Canon, Regret, Reunions, The Author Regrets Everything, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25671208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ettical/pseuds/ettical
Summary: The Once-ler has lived in the wasteland for years, wasting most of his adult life there.The return of the Truffula trees and the Lorax brought an end to it. With the guardian of the forest back in the valley, they can rekindle their friendship.
Relationships: The Lorax & The Once-ler (The Lorax)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	The Friend I Had, The Friend I Have

**Author's Note:**

> Gotta say, I did not expect to make anything for this fandom, given its reputation for being incredibly cursed. Also, it's 2020, the fandom has been dead for years, so there's literally no reason for me to write nor post it, but the need to write this piece was to strong, so here it is.

He heard singing.  
It had been a long time since he had heard anything from the outside, anything other than the sounds of the ruined nature outside and the voice of someone curious enough to travel this far. The muffled singing could only mean one thing - the wall had been knocked down and the seed had been planted.

Uncaring of the pain it would cause to his aged body, he sprung up from his seat and moved towards where he kept his ax. The very ax he had used to chop down the first Truffula tree was laying next to the payment he had gotten from Ted. With hands steadier than they had been in years, he grasped the ax's handle and brought it down on the planks that had been covering his window for years.

For the first time in decades, he saw Thneedville. Despite his eyesight no longer being as good as it used to be, the old man still recognized a few buildings from when he had first designed the town.

"Thank you, Ted," he spoke, a relieved smile slowly stretching on his face and tears threatening in the corner of his eyes..

With an almost giddy spring to his step, he stepped down the stairs of his house until he reached the booby-trapped door. With the practiced hands of an inventor, he quickly disabled the mechanism and opened the door. 

He had gone outside his house countless times before, but this time, he'd see something other than the dark and depressing wasteland that had been around him for decades. Maybe soon it would be flowering again, similar to how it had been before he had single-handedly destroyed it.

He ran through the ruined wasteland as fast as his body allowed him to go, tripping on the treestumps and almost getting sliced by the axes still connected to his ruined machines. The lower half of his jacket flapped behind him, almost looking like big green wings, only awkwardly placed. The Once-ler didn’t care if he was going to pass out from overexertion once he got there, he simply needed to see the tree that had been planted.

Now closer to the town, he took a turn to avoid being out in the open and risk being seen from the hole in the wall. Instead, he stayed near the wall and took a few minutes to catch his breath. He hadn’t ran like that in decades, so he felt like he was about to die. 

Yet, he stubbornly stood up and moved closer to the opening, hands shaking and knees weak. He peeked inside, but as soon as he did, he chickened out and slipped back to beyond the wall. Now slightly braver, he looked again and saw Ted and a couple others huddled around something, probably the seed. Once the boy moved a bit, a small plant was revealed, a tiny tree with a single pink tuft in the center of it. 

The Once-ler stopped and stared at it, eyes wide, disbelieving and mouth slightly open. It was done. Everything would start getting better from this point on, maybe one day the seeds he had planted before would begin to grow too and finally the valley would return to how it was before him. He was about to take a step towards it when he saw a child notice him and point at him, tugging her mother’s skirt.

The old man sobered immediately and quickly hopped back to the wasteland. Having seen the seed, he began his journey back to his house. This time his gait wasn’t desperate, hurrying and instead even slightly bouncy, like it had been before his descent into greed. He snorted a bit, if someone could see him now, they’d think it weird that such an old hat like him was prancing around like a child.  
He felt lighter, happy for the new beginning and second chance this barren place had gotten.

____________________________________________

It had been months since the first seed had been planted and it, as well as the other seeds that had been buried in the earth for decades, were doing well. They were growing fast, along with the grass that sprouting around them. No longer would the terrain be full of just grickle-grass and tree stumps.

The Once-ler stepped out of his newly repainted house, a watering can in hand and a spring in his step. He proceeded to diligently water the young trees that had sprouted around his home. A shadow passing over him made him look up, towards the clear blue sky. 

Then he saw it, a golden bird flying overhead. A Swomee-Swan had finally returned after all these years, gliding over the former wasteland like it belonged here.

Despite being focused on the magnificent bird, he didn’t fail to see the bright, glimmering light beside him. Now filled with hope, he turned only to see the Lorax descending from the skies, looking healthier and happier than he had been when he left. 

The mustached creature descended and landed on the circle of stones that had been awaiting his return. He stood on the stone that had the word “UNLESS” written on it and stared at the old man with approval.

The Once-ler was dumbfounded for a moment before he burst into laughter and stepped closer to the Lorax. His watering was left on the ground as he stretched out his arms when he laughed.

“You done good Beanpole, you done good.” he said, a smile stretching on his face underneath his glorious mustache. 

Instead of an answer, his friend dropped to his knees and hugged the guardian of the forest, expressing decades worth of regret in a single gesture. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, but he willed them not to, as he didn’t want the creature to see him cry. He pulled away slowly, lingering for a moment before standing up to his full height and dwarfing the Lorax once again.

The Lorax hopped off of the stone and laughed, “By the way, nice mustache.” 

He began walking towards the nearest Truffula tree with the Once-ler right by his side.

“Thank you, I guess your style grew on me after a while.” the man responded. He was curious to see what the guardian of the forest was planning to do, now that he was back. 

“And nature too, I suppose? I did see you watering those trees just now. It’s a good look on you, Beanpole, much better than that greedy industrialist.” he spoke while crouching down and inspecting one of the tiny plants, “The trees are growing nicely. Give it some time and you can sit under the trees and play horrible tunes on that guitar again.”

The man sat down on the ground, looking down at the tiny being was beginning to hurt his neck and it would be easier to hold the conversation this way. He glanced into the distance where he saw more Swomee-Swans flying and sighed, “I doubt I’ll see that day, but it is a nice thought.”

The being turned and set his green eyes on the Once-ler, “Why wouldn’t you see it? It’s only a decade or two away and I don’t think you are still that impatient that you’ll leave and won’t come back.”

His genuine smile was replaced with a bittersweet one, lips curling in a way that would look rather ugly if it wasn’t obscured by his white mustache. The Lorax might have been old and wise, but he didn’t know much about humans. There was no telling if he knew about a human’s lifespan or the diseases that could shorten it.

“Look, I may want to deny it, but I’m old, Mustache.”

“Old?” he asked, jumping on the man’s lap, which made the Once-ler wince a bit, “You’re not that old, only sixty or seventy at most. That’s nothing!” 

At the other’s grunt of protest, the creature began climbing higher on the fragile body he was on, examining every part of him.

“You’re fine, Beanpole. Look, you have all four of your limbs,” he then pulled open the old man’s mouth, “all of your teeth,” he lifted his hat, “and most of your hair. Sure, your hair has changed color, your skin looks slightly folded, and you’re standing in a way that makes you shorter, but you still seem just as spry as you were when we first met.”

After fixing his hat and spitting the stray orange hairs out of his mouth, he retailated, “Lorax, a human usually lives to be only about seventy. I’m definitely not as strong as I used to be, I don’t think I even could chop down a tree!”

The orange being stumbled back a few steps and began to pull on his mustache a bit. His eyes were wide and disbelieving and his thick brows drawn together in worry.

“You just helped bring back the Truffula valley and then you decide that you’re just going to die? Without meeting the rest of the animals when they come back? You might have destroyed everything, but even you deserve to see it growing back.” he said, having jumped in the man’s lap again and shaking his bony shoulders as if that was going to make his point clearer.

The Once-ler patted his furry head, a slightly sour smile on his face. “It’s not like I can turn back time, that’s not how it works. I’ll be lucky to live ten more years at most, but judging by my health, it’s more likely going to be only five or six more years.” at the guardian’s worsening mood he continued. “I’m fine with it, Mustache. I’ve lived a long enough life and I’ll take the most of it now. Come on, let’s see if I still know how to play my guitar.”

The Lorax fell deep in thought but didn’t move from his spot. Thankfully, the old man didn’t have to stand up and make him leave as the swans handed him the guitar. He didn’t know how the birds managed to find it from his house, but he wasn’t going to question them.

It was slightly uncomfortable to play the instrument with a lap full of pudgy forest guardian, but he managed. As he expected, the guitar was horribly out of tune, but it promised to be fairly playable despite the other cosmetic damage on it. 

The Once-ler tugged off his long green gloves, revealing long, pale and bony fingers. He then began to tune the old guitar and strummed it a bit after he was done. He was clumsy and sounded horrible at first, but after a bit of practice, he managed to get a decent enough sound out of it.

He didn’t sing as his voice was raspy and rough, molded by disuse and the smog that he had breathed in for years. Maybe he could try some other day, but right now all he wanted to do was play his old guitar. The most he could do right now was hum, but even that sounded slightly off, like a rusty piece of machinery forced to work after staying in a shed for many years.

The Lorax hummed along with him, stopping only when the man tried to play a bit of the old song “How Bad Can I Be?”. After all this time, he still had a distaste for the song the industrialist had created when he tried to justify chopping down trees. Noticing the creature’s discomfort, he switched to a different song.

They stayed like that for quite some time, until the Once-ler’s fingers were numb from playing and his body began to ache from sitting on the ground. After that, they retired to his house, where they drank tea and told stories from over the years.


End file.
